


Aaron Hotchner/David Rossi Drabbles

by emocsibe



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: CM typical injuries and accidents, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 10:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11484375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emocsibe/pseuds/emocsibe
Summary: Stories about Aaron Hotchner and Dave Rossi being stupidly in love and being adorable about it.





	Aaron Hotchner/David Rossi Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SheenaWilde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheenaWilde/gifts).



After the explosion that almost got rid of his hearing, Hotch started avoiding noisy places if he could help it – during cases it was a topic no one wished to bring up if he just as much as flinched at a loud sound, but he knew what they wanted to say. They wanted to reassure him that if he can’t stand it he shouldn’t be that close, he could always back out and take a moment to get okay. But, his problem with this was that he felt okay. The rare seconds when he was left with only one functional ear, when he staggered a millimetre to the right, well, he was okay. Only not in the sense everyone expected him to be.

He could see it on Rossi’s face, though, all the time; the concern and the immense wish to help, to aid, even though the man thought he had a great poker face that could conceal every feeling. In Aaron’s opinion he practically radiated them around – or maybe they grew that close during years and years of hunting down unsubs that he grew apt to distinguish between Dave’s many emotions and faces without a thought. And now, between sudden phases of darkness Hotch saw one expression he wanted to swipe away from Rossi’s face with his thumb, kiss away with his lips and soothe away with a hug and with gentle words – Rossi was worried, horribly worried to an extent where his eyes kept jumping around from one part of Hotch’s face to some other with an emergency speed. His moth was forming words, Hotch could see it – but no voice reached him, only some distant rumble – maybe his blood flowing in his veins, or his blood flowing out of his veins, or the ambulance and fire engines rolling past them. He had no care for that, only for the hand around his trembling fingers, for gathering enough strength to hold it securely to his aching chest, to hold it to his heart, to make Rossi feel his heartbeat and the uneven and pained movement he felt his lungs make following every breath he took. He saw Rossi raising his other hand, felt it curl around his bruised cheek, still hot from the heat the explosion created, and he closed his eyes as he turned his head into this small but meaningful gesture. He trusted Rossi, and he hoped that Rossi trusted him to make it through this, too, just like every time he got injured. He had the devil’s luck, and hoped with everything that could still hope in his battered soul that it will last, just for this last time, just for allowing him to tell Rossi that if anything ever happened, it wasn’t his fault, that if anything happened to him, Rossi was to not blame himself for it. Also, he wanted to see his smile before passing, not his frown, ha wanted to hear his voice – so calming, charming, so Rossi – and not this deafening rumble. He wanted to taste Rossi’s kiss or anything but his own blood, and wanted to see a ceiling with nice tapestry and not smoke and ashes swirling through the air, and certainly not the lights of vehicles that brought men to fight for lives while he couldn’t do the same.

Rossi’s head snapped in the direction of someone talking or something happening out of his sight, Hotch couldn’t hear a sound but the relief that washed over Rossi’s face calmed him. If Rossi grew restless, he knew it meant trouble – but also when the older agent calmed down, that brought along his own peace of mind, too. Rossi was someone he was in synch with, more so that with anyone on his team, maybe stemming from their relationship, or the shared experiences, the slaps life dealt to them both; he didn’t know and didn’t care as long as this heavenly state remained between them. He smiled at Rossi when he smiled at him, and this shared, small sign of affection warmed his cooling chest. He was loved and so damned lucky. He shut his eyes, and the next thing he saw was darkness, peppered with faces and lights and even more darkness.

 

 When he regained consciousness the room he was in appeared to be empty aside from a nurse checking his vital sings, which he partially was thankful for. Part of him wanted to see Rossi, hunched in one of the chairs or leaning against a wall, simply being there for Aaron. But there was also a traitorous voice in his head supplying him with thoughts about Rossi also being hurt. He remembered little about what had happened, ha could only recall a forceful push and a burning sensation, as if he had gotten a sunburn, only three times more intense, but nothing about his team or his lover in particular. He had some fleeting thoughts about seeing Rossi’s face and feeling his embrace but he wasn’t sure if it had really happened or it was only his mind supplying him with what he wanted to see. So, he forced himself to let out a small cough, as sound didn’t came out of his mouth at first, which caused the nurse to look up. She was all smiles and positivity, and Aaron was calmed by that. Nurses only smiled naturally when there was no irreparable damage – when there was, their smile was forced and it didn’t reach their eyes. But she was genuinely cheerful and also helpful giving him all the details of his accident after asked.

By the time she exited the room with the promise of getting Aaron his team, Hotch knew that he was the only injured – besides the house that was little more than a few burned down walls and empty holes where previously had been windows and doors. The faces he wanted to see appeared, slowly trailing in the room after each other, smiling at him and filling him in the rest of the events, but the only person he longed to see the most was not amongst them.

“Where’s Rossi?”

“Getting your papers signed. He knows you would jump out of the window if you could so instead of waiting for that he’s taking you home” said Garcia in a half-joking half-serious tone while Morgan put down a bag on Aaron’s bed.

“A change for you, man, so you can walk out of here with all of your dignity.”

“Oh, and don’t bother with Strauss, we got it covered” chimed in Emily with a sour smile on her face that almost made Hotch laugh. He only didn’t out of solidarity – Strauss was not the best afternoon program. But, he had to admit it at least to himself, going home with Dave felt better. No; it felt the best option to take. He wanted the silence of their bedroom, the fluffy covers and soft pillow and his favourite chest to lay his head on. He dressed after his friends left him alone, and by the time Rossi slid in the door, he was ready and tired, but nonetheless glowing with joy to see his lover.

“Took you long enough, love.”

“You telling me? As if I was trying to take you home from prison and not a hospital. Although” he lowered his voice as he got closer to Aaron “I’m glad to see how well they patched you up.”

“It wasn’t that bad, or I couldn't be leaving now…”

 “Still, they did a good job. Let’s see if I can match it by keeping you out of trouble for a few days, shall we?”

Dave’s smile was everything in that moment, and the calm voice he was talking in to him, and Aaron just nodded a little with his eyes already half closed. He leant on Dave’s arm, and let himself be led to the car. He had the devil’s luck and he had Dave – he had everything he ever needed.


End file.
